Dream
by Arynn Octavia
Summary: If I say anything about this story, I'll be giving too much away. But what I can say is: Gil Grissom and Warrick Brown Slash, but not graphic. If you don't like that flavor of coffee, don't read this. One shot.


Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

Title: Dream

Author: Arynn Octavia

Category: slash, drama

Spoilers: none

Rating: T (which is like PG13)

Summary: Gil Grissom/Warrick Brown slash, but not graphic.

A/N: My first fanfic written, though I have been reading for quite a while. I am usually a Gil Grissom/Greg Sanders shipper but this one was relentless, and I had to appease. 753 words.

Disclaimer: As I am neither CBS Alliance Atlantis, nor Jerry Bruckheimer, these character are not mine. This is not an infringement. It's a tribute.

Dream

"Mrs. Culver, we've found your daughter. She's going to be fine."

The woman burst into tears of happiness as he led her down the hallway and opened the door of the interrogation room. As soon as the woman saw the sixteen year old girl hunched at the table with a blanket over her shoulders she ran to the girl and embraced her, both women shaking with joy and relief.

With his hand still on the doorknob, Grissom moved his eyes from the tearful reunion to the man who had been sitting across the table from the girl. Seeing the satisfied grin on Warrick's face Grissom let slip a small smile and jerked his head toward the hallway. Nodding, Warrick brushed past him to stand on his other side as Grissom gently closed the door.

"We rarely see any happy endings around here, this is a welcomed change."

Warrick nodded in agreement as Grissom signalled to Jim Brass who had just entered at the other end of the hall. "They are in here, but you should give them a few minutes." Warrick injected as Brass approached. Brass nodded, leaning against the door.

Grissom made his way down the hall and turned into his office. Crossing the room he gently put the files in his hand on the desk and started to slowly sort through them. After a few minutes, turning to close the door, he gave a small start as he found Warrick sitting on one of chairs behind him. Grissom found himself wondering how long the man had been watching him. He slowly walked to the door and closed it. Turning back to his desk he saw that Warrick was now standing with his back to Grissom, slightly bending at the waist with both palms flat on Grissom's desk.

Taking in the sight of the younger man, Grissom started to feel a burning sensation in his abdomen as he unhurriedly walked back toward Warrick. He circled around his desk and sat in his chair, looking questioningly up at Warrick's eyes. He had his eyes focused down at the desk, but very slowly he raised them up Grissom's body, finally landing them on his face.

As the man's eyes scanned him, the burning in Grissom's body became more intense until he felt all of his extremities throbbing. Warrick's eyes finally locked onto Grissom's as he walked around the desk and stood over him.

Warrick reaching down toward him with his strong arms, Grissom let the younger man pull him out of his seat by the collar of his polo shirt until he was fully standing. Warrick leaned down to close the remaining four inches between them and gently but passionately kissed Grissom.

He felt his body explode as a ringing filled his ears, jarring him. The ringing grew louder as Warrick faded away. Confusion clouded Grissom's drowsy brain for a few moments until he realised where the ringing was coming from.

Disentangling himself from the sheets that had wrapped tightly around his torso just enough to free an arm that had been pinned to his side, he reached over to the bedside table and turned the alarm off, slightly annoyed at the little contraption for waking him, and at himself for having this dream again. He sat at the edge of the bed for a few minutes, his palms rubbing his forehead, and finally got up with a small groan and headed into the bathroom.

He tightly gripped the porcelain edges of the sink until his knuckles were white; glaring down at the drain, refusing to acknowledge what he was feeling. After taking a few deep breaths he looked up into the mirror.

First taking in the grey hair at his temples, then the fine lines around his eyes, he finally settled to look at the eyes themselves. The actual eyes were the only part of his face that seemed un-aged. He stared into his pupils as if he were a fortune teller looking into the depths of a crystalline orb for answers.

When no answers came (at least none that he was willing to accept), he released the sink edges from his fingers and looked down at his hands. They were sore from gripping the sink so tightly, and they tingled slightly, their whiteness replaced by a red tinge as the blood flowed back into them. He messaged each hand with the other, trying to relieve their aching and itching.

Pushing all questions and insecurities from his mind, Grissom got ready for work.


End file.
